Sometimes it just happens
by Synvamp
Summary: A small collection of Zoro and Sanji based drabbles. All are short and sweet with a ZoSan theme - the first one is gen but they become more naughty as the boys get closer XD
1. Chapter 1

Title: skill

Rating: PG (slightly violent)  
>Media: fic<br>Characters: Zoro and Sanji  
>Word Count: 165<p>

Prompt: 'skill'

This snippet is a little more serious but I hope you guys like it!

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Turning the blade ever so slightly; the end closest to strong, resolute fingers stays perfectly still.

The sharp tip rotates slowly, pure precision and control. He could thread a needle with that blade... A long slow stroke and the flesh peels away like butter. Severed neatly. Surgical and bloodless.

To some it would be disgusting; dead meat being sliced so methodically. A reminder of the raw vulnerability of all of us made of such tender stuff... To Zoro it is beautiful. A display of skill, of talent, of raw power bound and harnessed to serve the whim of a killing edge.

The perfect, tiny movements which leave no scrap to waste. The focussing of all that force into a single point, for a single purpose – one desire and one need.

He might be the greatest swordsman alive... Or close. But when it came to this mirror faced kitchen knife, sometimes in his weakest moments, he wondered silently if Sanji's skills would put him to shame.

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	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Comfort  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M for swearing and yaoi  
><strong>Media:<strong> fic  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Zoro / Sanji  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 298  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I do not own One Piece or any of the characters from it

**Prompt:** change

I hope that you guys find this little piece sweet :D

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Sanji was sitting at the breakfast table, legs crossed neatly reading the newspaper. He sipped his earl grey tea (with a hint of lemon of course) and tried to concentrate on the entertainment section.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he could feel Zoro near him. He had a sixth sense for Marimo-head. It helped them to co-operate but it could also be annoying when Zoro fell asleep in a weird place and the cook couldn't figure out where he was, felt like the idiot was constantly breathing down his neck.

Sanji got up slowly and stretched his legs. After touching the deck, palms flat, he snuck around the corner to indulge in a new hobby he had picked up: Marimo hunting. Usually this involved tracking where meat-for-brains had nodded off and splashing cold water on him 'accidentally'.

As he slid smoothly round the corner, Sanji caught sight of that distinctive mossy hair. He was just about to lean over and tap Zoro sharply on the shoulder, when he saw that the swordsman was shaking, ever so slightly.

Sanji was hovering on the brink between saying something and walking away, when Zoro spoke,

"What do you want, shit-cook?"

"I…" Sanji mumbled, transfixed by the husky voice. Zoro was holding one of his three swords - the white one - as one silent tear rolled down his cheek.

Sanji reached out long pale fingers that hovered like ghosts above Zoro's dark rich skin. After a tiny flinch of hesitation, the cook put his hand on Zoro's shoulder and looked out with him across the ocean.

Silently and with such deliberate steadiness that it seemed to take forever, Zoro's hand lifted up and then came to rest on top of the cook's.

By such a simple act, everything changed.

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	3. Chapter 3

Title: Whatever works for you

Rating: M – language and yaoi

Media: Fiction

Pairing: ZoSan – can't help myself :D

Word Count: 294

Prompt: Nuisance

I've been really enjoying "Shifting Ties" by dreaming_fate at the moment. This is inspired by the first chapter; nothing like a good argument in the kitchen :D

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He could feel the swordsman's gaze lingering on him from the doorway. It had to be him; he always came to pester Sanji when he was cooking. It was like clockwork; at ten he trained, at two he slept, at four he annoyed Sanji.

Zoro lounged in the doorway, no doubt preparing his strategy for the day. He knew Sanji's dream and his life's desire were tied up in his culinary abilities - he just didn't seem to care.

Baka-marimo! What would it take to get through to him?

"Don't touch that." The cook could tell now without even turning around.

*touch*

"I said, don't touch it shit-head!"

*touch*

One foot raised in sheer frustration, eyes bright with rage…

Firm caresses travelling up his thigh, deft fingers nimbly seeking higher.

"NOT THAT EITHER!"

"Why?" Eyes filled with lust, wicked grin and lips so close.

"I'm busy!"

"Ok." Zoro laughed. Shrugs, sits, a minute and then…

*touch*

"Zoro don't you dare touch that batter," A chuckle and waves of impudence rolling over his shoulder.

*touch*

"Don't stick your fingers in there!" A well-aimed kick, quick dodge and Zoro licking his fingers clean, ever so slowly.

"Mmm… It's good ero-cook…"

"I told you not to touch that you moss-headed moron!"

A smirk a mile wide.

Three kicks in quick succession, any one enough to crush bone. He regained his stance and tapped his shoe: once, twice, three times.

Waited.

Zoro rushed towards him, all brute force and flashing blades. Their bodies collided, forceful blows turned to caresses. Struggling for dominance on the floor, face wet with kisses.

"Why do you always have to be such a fucking nuisance?"

Sanji always asked but Zoro was always silent.

_I'll stop doing it when it stops working, baka._

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	4. Chapter 4

Title: Happy Birthday!

Word count: 391

Rating: PG 13

Warning: contains swearing and yaoi references - Oh, it's pure crack. You have been warned!

Disclaimer: I don't own One Piece or Zoro, or Sanji, and I don't make any money from writing this story - I just do it for the LOLs.

Summary: Zoro gives Sanji a Birthday Present, well… almost.

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"Look, I did NOT do it deliberately!" Zoro shifted his weight slightly to his back foot to alleviate the pressure of the perfectly polished dress shoe on his Adam's apple.

"You expect me to believe that they hired a person to ice cakes at a bakery who couldn't spell a FOUR-LETTER WORD?" Sanji raged. The foot pressed dangerously hard on his throat and then snapped back as the cook executed a perfect miffed pirouette, and marched off with a theatre grade huff.

The swordsman sighed. He knew from experience that this question fell into the rhetorical category. Of course he wouldn't believe it. Every cook in the Grand Line is _fucking Shakespeare_ after-all. Why was it that every time he tried to do something nice for the idiot, it backfired so spectacularly?

When he'd made Sanji breakfast in bed, he'd complained that he'd ruined every non-stick dish in the galley.

When he'd given the cook a back rub to get out all the knots in his shoulders - from too much time on his knees, Zoro smirked - he'd complained that he couldn't cut up food properly for a week.

When he'd learned how to carve the blonde's name out of paper as it sailed on the breeze, Sanji had screamed at him for wasting Nami's map-manuscript.

He was starting to think that there wasn't a romantic bone in Sanji's body as far as the swordsman was concerned.

He lifted the lid of the gorgeous cream and silver box which he had carried painstakingly back the three miles from the bakery, without so much as a speck of dirt landing on the ridiculous curls of ribbon. The cake was still there. Fat lot it was going to do him. He couldn't even share it with the girls… Sanji's temper would go from nuclear to post-apocalyptic if the ladies ever saw any trace of their 'relationship'. The swordsman sighed and resigned himself to eating an entire cake. Despite Sanji's derision, he knew if he let a single crumb go to waste, the blonde would practically kill him.

Before sitting the lid back down and sneaking off to the hold he admired the perfect pink swirling letters once more. The guy really had a nice pen-stroke, even if he couldn't spell. The gorgeous sweeping cursive, so deceptively innocent.

"Happy Birthday Love-Cock!"

Fucking typical.

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	5. Chapter 5

Title: Not your average

Rating: PG  
>Media: fic<br>Pairing/Characters: Nami, Luffy, Zoro / Sanji  
>Word Count(if applicable): 198<br>Prompt: 'family'

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"I'll put it another way, Zoro and Sanji are a family now." Nami said, tapping her foot in a manner so close to patience that she almost got away with it.

Luffy scratched his head, or more correctly, his straw hat.

"But we're all family, Nami." Luffy explained patiently, "Zoro's the dad and I'm the dad and Usopp's the dad and Frankie's th…" Nami interrupted him as he started counting off each crew member on his fingers,

"But they're a special type of family. They're a pair now."

"But they're both a dad! Can they do that?"

Nami sighed.

"Yes, they can do that."

"So does that mean Sanji is a mum?" Luffy's eyes went wide with awe. Nami wondered briefly what horrors were unfolding in the mysterious space between the Captain's ears.

"No. They're just both… dads." She sighed again. At this point she would say anything to make the idiot understand. This had already taken half an hour.

"Both dads…" The innocent brown eyes gleamed with wonder, his mouth opened as a thought too amazing to be contained tried to burst out into the world.

Nami read it like a book.

"NO. They cannot have babies!"

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	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Geronimo!  
><strong>Rating:<strong> M for swearing and yaoi  
><strong>Media:<strong> fic  
><strong>Characters:<strong> Zoro / Sanji  
><strong>Word Count:<strong> 287  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I do not own One Piece or any of the characters from it :(

**Prompt:** 'crack'

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Sanji lay on the bed, his hair glinting like spun gold in the sun. The patterns of light and shade made his muscled abs look even tastier than usual and so the cook's whole chest and stomach were covered in love bites.

Slowly the swordsman pulled away, letting their lips part and unwrapping his legs from those of the leggy blonde. After running one longing hand slowly down the cook's naked body, Zoro climbed out of the bed.

"Where the hell do you think you're going, shitty swordsman?" Sanji growled. He was somehow already lighting a cigarette even though Zoro barely had time to turn around.

The swordsman didn't answer him, but instead opened the top drawer next to the bed and removed a large black dildo. He pointed it menacingly at the cook, grinned and then began to climb the large wardrobe in the corner of the room.

"Marimo…" Sanji said, his voice half warning, half question.

Zoro stood on the top of the wardrobe and stretched his arms out. He was absolutely sure he could reach the bed from here. Mostly because he had been practicing all week. He had the move down pat – the leap, the roll, the twisting motion… His body was a well-oiled machine that knew only the routine of training, moves which were engrained until they were as natural as breathing.

The swordsman took his stance and then let out his battle cry:

"Two Sword Style: Stallion's Thrust!"

…..

For some reason, the next thing Zoro knew, he was lying on his back on the floor with half a double bed on his face.

Weird.

Oh well. Maybe that wasn't what Sanji meant when he said to be more inventive…

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End file.
